


oceans (a love that’s more)

by orphan_account



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: 26.2 miles of gay dumbassery, Early Days, Idiots in Love, M/M, frank has a crisis, gerard is mildly helpful, really taking the tag “idiots in love” and doing a fucking marathon with it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:54:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21976174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: it’s not like frank intended to fall head over dumbass heels for his best friend, to make one thing exceedingly obvious. in fact, he’d say he’s spent a lot of time and energy attempting to do the exact opposite of that.it’s just that his best friend is who he is, and that everyone who meets him is a little bit in love with him. and frank really can’t blame them for it- gerard is easy to love.(written as a companion piece to millions (i still want more), but can be read as a stand-alone)
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way
Comments: 4
Kudos: 66





	oceans (a love that’s more)

**Author's Note:**

> NO BETA WE DIE LIKE MEN
> 
> i wrote both of these at like 2 AM, merry belated christmas or some shit. lmk if you like it/would like more

it’s not like frank intended to fall head over dumbass heels for his best friend, to make one thing exceedingly obvious. in fact, he’d say he’s spent a lot of time and energy attempting to do the exact opposite of that. 

it’s just that his best friend is who he is, and that everyone who meets him is a little bit in love with him. and frank really can’t blame them for it- gerard is easy to love. 

so maybe they’ve started to play up the fact that everyone thinks- or knows, though nobody outside the band actually knows they’re right- they’re fucking. the amount of times gerard has fully groped him onstage now is uncountable, meaning frank lost count after three and is too afraid to ask mikey or ray for the total, and they’ve near-kissed an obscene amount of times in every red state they’ve visited on tour. 

the real kisses, of course, happen offstage and primarily in hotel rooms, and those are frank’s favorite moments. very few people get to peel off the well worn mask of eccentric confidence and vampirish charm gerard wears so well onstage and see what’s beneath it, but that’s exactly the man frank fell in love-

well, shit. 

it’s no secret that frank loves gerard, not even to the people who don’t think- or know- they’re fucking. that shit is a known fact of life, he thinks. it just makes sense. but to be in love with him is a road frank’s pretty fucking sure he isn’t ready to go down right now, or ever. fucking your bandmate and best friend is one mess. catching feelings for them is a hellish nightmare waiting to happen. 

besides, mikey and ray know what they’re doing, and while they’re not particularly jazzed about it, they don’t judge. but mikey has expressly told him if he ever fucks with gerard’s heart he’ll fucking murder frank in cold blood, and if anyone scares him to death, it’s mikey fucking way. 

but that’s hard to remember when frank has a fucked out and pleasantly sleepy gerard curled up in bed next to him, head resting on his shoulder, arms curled possessively around frank’s middle. gerard becomes like a cat post-sex, minus the purring and plus the soft, contented little hums he lets out as frank runs his hands through his hair, tips of his fingers grazing his scalp so he sighs and curls up a little closer. 

there’s a decisive poke to the dead center of frank’s chest. “hey.” 

“mmm?”

gerard plants a kiss there. “i like you.”

“really? i had no idea.”

a giggle, and gerard swats his arm lightly. “shut up.” he pauses, lifts up onto one elbow to look frank in the face, still smiling dazedly. “i mean it.” 

frank’s heart swells in his chest. he drops his hand from gerard’s hair to skim his fingers over the side of gerard’s face, resting under his jaw and cupping it in his palm. “i like you, too, you know.” 

gerard leans into the touch for a moment, then swings his free arm around to plant his other elbow on the other side of frank’s head, and leans down to kiss him soundly. 

“i mean it,” gerard says against his mouth, forehead leaning against frank’s. “you’re one of the greatest people i’ve ever known. i really fucking like you a lot.” 

“gee,” is all frank can croak out, a bit dazed. see, it’s not like he doesn’t talk like this all the time. and it’s not like he doesn’t tell the other guys shit like this. but it’s different, here, and if frank thinks about it- which he doesn’t really want to- that’s what scares him. 

it’s different, here, the two of them. 

the spell hasn’t broken for him every time they inevitably leave bed and carry on with their lives just yet, but that’s not to say it won’t. and it’s certainly not to say it doesn’t for gerard, which... admittedly, frank’s brain likes to harp on when he can’t sleep, which is a fucking lot of the time. what frank feels for gerard is unnameable and terrifying, if only because if he names it it becomes real, and no matter what, whatever happens next it is deathly unattainable, young and doomed. 

“frankie?” gerard’s voice is smaller, softer, and it startles frank out of his thoughts. 

he blinks. “yeah?”

“if i tell you something, will you promise not to freak out?”

frank iero, preemptively freaking the everloving fuck out and ready to panic out of his own goddamn skin, nods once. “yeah.” 

“... you sure?”

“mhm.”

gerard looks less than convinced, but he also doesn’t move from his perch above frank, and he doesn’t push it. instead he lifts a hand to run fingers through frank’s sweaty hair, watches his eyes like he can see right through him- and frank knows he can, knows he does. his fingertips drift down frank’s face, and the curve of his hand settles beneath frank’s jaw, holds frank in place so he can’t look away. gerard takes a deep breath. 

“i love you,” is a simple enough start. three words he’s heard before, even heard them from gerard, but goddamn is context a fucking bitch sometimes. “as a friend, yeah, but there’s more,” just obliterates the final scrap of self hating doubt left in frank’s mind, “and i’ve loved you like that for a while now, but i was so scared that... i don’t know, i’d scare you off or some shit, so i...” he shrugs, and the last remaining supports in frank’s feeble armor begin to crack. 

“what changed?” frank whispers. 

gerard smiles a little. “nothing,” he says. frank must look as unconvinced as he feels, because he continues. “i mean, that’s what... i was afraid things would change. that we would change if we... got involved, you know? and i guess some things did.” gerard’s fingertips skim across frank’s cheek before his palm settles, cupping frank’s jaw in his hand. “but not the things i was scared would change. you’re still my best friend. you’re still... overwhelming, in the best way.” he chuckles a little, gaze dropping to frank’s lips for a split second before returning to his wide eyes. “we’re still us.”

“always,” frank promises. 

gerard grins. “that’s all i can ask for.” 

“just so we’re clear,” frank blurts out before he can scare himself out of it, “i love you, too. the same way.” he swallows hard, watches the mix of shock and hope and worry and love, and it’s always been love, and frank’s kind of an idiot, blossom across gerard’s face. “always have.” 

“frank...”

“day one, remember?” he jokes. 

gerard rolls his eyes as he leans further down into frank’s space, but he’s still grinning. “you were talking about jumping my bones, though.”

“mmm, or so you thought.” 

gerard’s thumb brushes searchingly over frank’s parted lips. without thinking, frank turns and presses a kiss to the palm of his hand. “you mean that?” gerard asks. 

if he’s being honest, frank hadn’t meant it then, and if he had, he hadn’t realized it- what it was he felt for gerard, what he feels, what he may always feel. it weighs on his shoulders like a universal truth now that he’s discovered it, something in his bones he couldn’t shake or outgrow or give up if he tried, and at this point, frank doesn’t think he‘d ever want to. 

at this point, he’s not frank iero if he doesn’t love gerard way. 

“yeah,” he says. 

gerard kisses him again. frank lets his arms drape across gerard’s back to pull their bodies together, legs tangling in the sheets as gerard beams and giggles into frank’s mouth while frank kisses him back again and again and again. 

fuck the real world waiting in the hall. they’ve got four hours until call time. 


End file.
